


Whitestone and Chill

by blue_pointer



Series: A Study in Gold [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Avoidance, Cuddling & Snuggling, Desert Rose - Freeform, Dragons, Episode: c01e042 Dangerous Dealings, Fashion Crimes, Flirting, Gossip, Hair care, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, M/M, Makeup Sex, Metallic Dragon!Gilmore, Minor Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Pampering, Pillow Talk, Promises, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, Secrets, Shaun Gilmore is not Caucasian, Sherri is having none of it, Sherri's on a mission, Smut, The Twins - Freeform, Vax you ignorant slut, Vax'ildan x Gilmore, Vaxmore, Vex'ahlia + actualjohnwatson 5eevees, Vex'ahlia isn't buying your BS, a plot to save Westruun, and Scanlan wonders why everything he says is creepy, clandestine meetings, complementary personalities, conversations in Marquesian, crabwalk of shame, currying favor, drama queen, flattery, grounded from magic, hiding in high places, impudent elf, more flirting with Grog, questionable alignment is right, spell-related injuries, they are mine, unworthy dog vs. slippery rat, white privilege Percy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: After the Fall of Emon, Vox Machina makes the tough decision to abandon Greyskull Keep for Whitestone. But they can’t seem to leave behind the relationship drama.
Relationships: Shaun Gilmore & Jarett Howarth, Shaun Gilmore & Sherri, Shaun Gilmore & Vex'ahlia, Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)
Series: A Study in Gold [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906693
Comments: 20
Kudos: 37





	1. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Liam O'Brien, for this title.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Gilmore’s rough night, Jarett returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated T.

Gilmore did manage to sleep eventually, but his dreams were not his own. A familiar voice called out to him to come home. 

He started awake early, crying out when just the small movement of trying to sit up caused stabbing pain. Mahogany fingers that smelled of sandalwood clamped down over his mouth, silencing him. Gilmore glanced to the side of the bed and found Jarett crouched there. _“It’s very early,”_ he said. _“You wouldn’t want to wake the keep.”_ Then he took his hand away, freeing Gilmore to speak. 

_“What is happening?”_ Gilmore asked, honestly curious. This felt very clandestine. _“And can I trouble you to make at least some noise when you walk? This is a distressing way to wake up.”_

 _“I did make noise; however, you were deeply asleep. Apologies, Gilt D’amour. I’ve merely come to help, as promised.”_ He held up a jar of hair balm.

 _“You’re just off work now?”_ Gilmore asked, surprised. 

_“None of my guard likes third watch, so I usually take it myself. I’m a night owl.”_

_“That’s noble of you.”_ And, if true, spoke to the sort of leader he was. 

_“Come.”_ Jarett stood, helping Gilmore sit up and rearranging the pillows to keep him propped up. Carefully, Jarett unwrapped the turban. Gilmore’s face fell when he saw yet another strand of hair break and drift down into his lap. 

_“I may die,”_ he said. 

Jarett was already working to separate strands so that he could go through Gilmore’s hair methodically. His calloused fingers were gentle against Gilmore’s scalp. _“So dramatic.”_

 _“I could cut_ your _hair and see how_ you _like it,”_ Gilmore offered.

 _“No, thank you.”_ Jarett’s air of calm took the edge off of Gilmore’s anxiety. He sat still, catching the few broken strands that fell, eventually going into a meditative state, and even dozing a little. What time was it? Beyond the window, the glow of dawn was barely visible on the horizon. For all Jarett’s protests of being useless, his fingers felt good, and helped Gilmore relax. 

_“That feels nice,”_ Gilmore murmured after a time, pulling forward one of the finished strands to examine it for himself. It was rough and quick work, but the curl held together. 

_“If there is a braid weaver left in Emon, I will find her for you,”_ Jarett said, apologetically. _“You deserve better than this.”_

 _“All the same, you are spoiling me, and I appreciate it.”_ It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of Gilmore. _“And soon enough, I will be able to do this for myself.”_

 _“You do these yourself?”_ Jarett sounded surprised.

 _“For the most part, yes. It helps me think.”_ After a day of selling and networking and spelling custom orders, it was nice to let go and think of nothing in particular. 

_“Your thoughts must be very complex.”_

_“Now you’re just flattering me,”_ Gilmore said. _“Go on.”_

Jarett had a sweet youthful chuckle in contrast with the soft baritone of his speaking voice. _“Do not make a quarry of my heart,”_ he said. _“I would not stand a chance against an experienced huntsman like yourself.”_

Gilmore looked up at him _. “Did you just call me experienced?”_ And when Jarett smiled, he continued, _“You’re not wrong, I’m just asking.”_

 _“I would never imply something so rude, my lord.”_ But Gilmore could still hear the smile in his voice. 

_“No, of course not. I do like your manners, weaver’s son. Where did you say you were from again?”_

_“I did not,”_ Jarett smiled. _“But I imagine you can guess.”_

 _“Ank’Harel. Of course.”_ Where was anyone from Marquet from?

_“Of course.”_

Gilmore thought for a moment. _“Do you ever get homesick?”_

 _“Every day.”_ Gilmore could hear it in his voice.

 _“Poor thing. I can’t say I do. Oh, I miss Marquet, but not in the same way.”_ There was a difference between missing a place and missing a person. Though when a person was an integral part of a place...

 _“Perhaps you can teach me,”_ Jarett said. 

Gilmore laughed softly, because pain. _“Oh no. I wouldn’t do that to you.”_ He wouldn’t wish his negative associations on anyone, much less this human who had been kind enough to do him such a favour. 

Jarett stopped his ministrations and bent down to Gilmore’s eye level, just watching him for a moment. _“You fascinate me.”_

 _“Well, I am fascinating,”_ Gilmore smiled humbly, preening. _“But there you go again with your idle flattery.”_

Jarett was still staring. _“I assure you, it is not idle.”_

 _“I’ll allow it, but only because I find I could use some flattery just now.”_ One day Jarett would tell him what he actually wanted from Gilmore, and all of this would come to an abrupt end. But it was enjoyable repartee for now. 

_“Ah yes,”_ Jarett said, standing to resume his task. _“A little bird told me that an unworthy dog found a new bed last night.”_

That hurt Gilmore’s heart. Was it so widely known, then? _“I happen to love that unworthy dog,”_ he said, feeling he should draw the line now before Jarett said something they would both regret. _“And he is free to choose whatever bed he likes.”_

 _“And what about you?”_ Jarett asked. _“You have the same freedom?”_

 _“For now, I freely choose my own bed,”_ Gilmore told him. _“Though I thank you for asking.”_ Knowing Jarett had zero intentions of following through with any flirt helped Gilmore keep things light-hearted. _“Nice manners, gifted hands. Be careful, J’arett, or I might keep you.”_

_“I wouldn’t presume to be so lucky, my lord.”_

Gilmore couldn’t read his tone, so he looked up, considering Jarett again. _“No, I suppose not. Why_ are _you doing all this?”_

 _“A smart man knows how to make friends above his station.”_ Jarett’s eyes were carefully on his task. 

_“Well. I’m not sure that’s true in our case, but you certainly have my attention. Will you ask your favour now or later?”_ Jarett was becoming more interesting by the moment.

 _“Later, I think.”_ Jarett leaned close, and Gilmore could feel warm breath on his ear. _“If I have earned it by then.”_

 _“Well.”_ Such confusing mixed messages he was sending. It was a good thing Gilmore knew Jarett’s flirting was for show. All the same, he was good at it. Gilmore reached to fidget with one of his gold necklaces, distracted. _“Then I look forward to your future efforts, if this is your opening salvo.”_

Jarett just smiled, mysteriously. _“Be pleased.”_

_“Oh, I am.”_

The guardsmen stepped back, finally finished. _“Would you like a looking glass?”_

 _“Is there one?”_ Gilmore glanced around. Percy seemed the type to fuss over his appearance, so there should be something. Jarett searched the armoir and returned with a clever shaving mirror that held a portion of glass that was magnified. How useful. Gilmore looked at his hair. It wasn’t bad. He could certainly tie the curls in such a way that the uneven lengths could be concealed. His edges...those would take a more skilled hand than Jarett’s, or some Prestidigitation. But the scarf could cover that in the meantime. _“Very well done,”_ he told Jarett. _“And you say you’ve not done this before?”_

 _“It has been...many years since I’ve even seen it done_.” 

Gilmore found it hard to believe, given the evidence. _“Well, you have my thanks, friend.”_

Jarett bowed in one suave motion. _“It was my honor to do the Rose of Shandal a favour.”_

 _“And may I return it.”_ Gilmore watched him carefully as Jarett rose from his bow. Quite the puzzle, this one.

 _“Be pleased.”_ His manner revealed nothing but good training.

 _“Be pleased. Now, go. You’ve earned your rest.”_ When Jarett left, his footfalls did make some sound, but not much.


	2. Baggage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gilmore is forced to wear a very ugly pair of Grog's pajamas, and the gang moves to their new home base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated T.

By the time Pike knocked on his door to check on him “first thing” in the morning, Gilmore had bound his curls at the nape of his neck and tied the scarf into a headband. Pike was surprised to find him already awake and asked how he was doing. After everything that had transpired in the last 12 hours, Gilmore honestly wasn’t certain, though he assured her he was fine. 

“Oh my gosh, those curls!” she exclaimed over his hair. “It’s like every time I see you, you have a new hair-do. I’m jealous.” He smiled, but said nothing. 

Gilmore’s presence turned Percy’s once solitary, (some might have said monastic) bedroom into an event space. After Pike left, Salda and the children came to eat breakfast with him. Little Gren plopped himself in the middle of the bed and insisted that he would not leave until Gilmore ate at least half of his pancake. Food was the last thing he wanted right now, but Gilmore managed to make enough disappear to satisfy the boy. Seeing Gilmore was still in a lot of pain, Salda scooped up Gren before too long, and told the children they could come visit again later. The three of them left behind gifts: a paper crane Illiya had folded specially for Gilmore, and Odessa’s favourite hair ribbon, which she promised to braid into Gilmore’s beard when he was feeling better. They were sweet children. But Gilmore needed to rest after they’d left. 

It wasn’t long before he heard the door shut, and looked up to find Sherri wringing her hands. “Master Gilmore, Westruun has fallen. I can’t believe they mentioned it so casually--”

“Stop.” Well-trained, she quieted and dropped her hands, looking to him expectantly. “Dragons?” Sherri nodded. “Which one?” 

“No one knows, Sir!” 

“Fuck.” Gilmore closed his eyes, attempting to concentrate. “The sigil...is still intact.” He winced, just that small working causing an unexpected amount of pain in his abdomen. Naturally, that was the moment Pike chose to check on him again. 

“I don’t think you should try any more magic,” she said, giving Gilmore a careful once-over. “Something about your injury...I don’t know, it’s like they’re connected.” Gilmore said not a word. No magic until he was healed was going to make things very difficult. After Pike performed another healing, he fell right to sleep, and rested easier than he had the night before. 

*

“Master, I’m sorry to wake you, but we have another problem.” Gilmore blinked up at Sherri, wondering how long he’d slept, if at all. “They’re moving the keep,” she said, pacing the room. 

“What, the whole thing?” Gilmore asked, groggy. 

“No, the people. Their household. All of us.” 

From her anxious body language, Sherri had some opinions on the matter. “You would prefer to stay?” he asked her. 

“I don’t like being beholden to them,” Sherri said. “I don’t trust them.” 

“Their alignment is often questionable, I admit,” Gilmore said. “But moving everyone seems like sound reasoning, given the circumstances.” 

Sherri kept pacing. “Perhaps, but we’re not their subjects. We don’t belong to them.” She paused, looking at him for emphasis. “ **You** don’t belong to them.” 

“I suppose not.” Gilmore sighed. “But they are mine, and I prefer to be where they are.” Sherri’s expression was disapproval incarnate. “We can hardly stay in Emon,” he told her. “Where are they planning to move everyone?” 

“Whitestone.” Sherri huffed, stamping her foot. “If I’d wanted to live in the snow, I would never have left the Stormcrests!” 

“Ah, yes.” Percival’s inheritance. That would make things...interesting. Gilmore tried to think of what their other options were, but he was severely limited at the moment. “Well, let’s go for now.” When Sherri made as if to protest, he held up a hand. “When I’ve regained my health, we’ll have more options. In the meantime…make sure you search Tiberias’ rooms for any maps, books, or other...items of interest. They won’t have thought to do that.” 

“Fine,” she said. “For the record, I hate this.” Sherri left with his satchel of holding to do as Gilmore had asked. 

*

If they were to be leaving, then Gilmore supposed he should fix more than just his hair. Earlier, Pike had mentioned something about leaving an extra set of clothes for him. Glancing around the room, all he could find were a giant pair of flannel pajamas that must have been Grog’s. They had a festive Winter’s Crest design and were perhaps the most hideous things Gilmore had ever seen. Just thinking of putting them on was making him depressed. If he’d had more energy, he might have searched the room for anything of Percy’s. Granted, Gilmore was taller than Percy, and thicker than Percy in certain key areas, but the young man had _some_ fashion sense...of a sort. As it was, it took all of Gilmore’s strength and effort to pull on the oversized pajamas without reopening his wounds. Afterward, he slumped on the edge of the bed, wondering how he’d come so low in just a matter of 48 hours. That was how Pike found him. 

"Did you hear the news?” she asked. Gilmore merely nodded. “I know it’s probably not what you had in mind. But we’ll be safer there, and I do need to keep an eye on you for at least a couple more days.” 

Gilmore did his best to offer a cheery smile, but truth be told, he wasn’t exactly feeling it. And it must have showed, for she continued, “After that…Well, I guess if you want to leave…it’s your choice. But we’d like it if you stayed.”

“You’re very kind,” Gilmore told her. “But I’m not sure everyone in the keep feels the same.” He could not help but notice in all the visitors he’d received today, one in particular was conspicuously absent.

Pike looked like she was considering who he might mean. “But...we all love you.” She frowned for a moment. “Did Scanlan say something inappropriate? He does that sometimes. I’ve learned not to take it personally. He just has a hard time expressing genuine emotion is all.” 

Gilmore offered a half-smile. “So I’ve noticed. However, he did not say anything untoward...today.” Though now Gilmore was curious what she thought Scanlan would have said to him.

“Well then...I don’t understand.” Her eyes were so earnest and blue.

“Nevermind, angel,” Gilmore told her. “We have work to do. There may be time for emotions later.” Pike nodded, looking uncertain, and left to give directions about what had to be packed and moved from the temple. 

In the end, all the refugees were able to make it through the portal on foot with help, with the exception of Gilmore. “I asked Grog to carry you,” Pike said, the goliath looming in the door behind her. “I hope that’s okay.” 

“I consider it a privilege.” Gilmore smiled, bowing his head to the somewhat embarrassed-looking goliath. “That is...if Grog doesn’t mind.” 

“Okay...just don’t, like, make it weird,” Grog said, hoisting Gilmore, blankets and all, into a princess carry and lumbering downstairs into the courtyard. 

“I’ll do my best,” Gilmore said, leaning against the broad, tattooed chest and trying not to cry out when the goliath’s uneven gate jarred his injuries. Seeing the two of them approaching, Vax’ildan disappeared through the portal before Gilmore was even within hearing range. _Interesting_ , Gilmore thought. It did not help his mood.

“Oh, Gilmore!” Vex’ahlia cried, coming to fuss over him as soon as she saw him. At least one of the twins still had a modicum of taste. Pike had been right beside them, but she made her own dash through the portal when she saw Scanlan’s horse-toothed smile waiting to escort her. 

“Six seconds!” Keyleth cried, trying to hurry the remaining staff and refugees along. 

“After you, my dear,” Gilmore told Vex’ahlia, who winked at him before stepping through. “Shall we, Grog?” 

“If you mean walk, then...yeh,” Grog replied, stepping through. Gilmore was relieved to find Sherri on the other side. He’d lost track of her in the hustle. 

“Master Gilmore! Thank gods!” she said, running up. “I was starting to think they’d forgotten you. That slippery rat disappeared as soon as he came through. He must have known I was about to have his hide.”

“Now now, there’s no need for name-calling, Sherri dear,” Gilmore said. “And you needn’t have worried. Pike made certain I had the best mode of transport in the house.” Gilmore smiled sweetly up at Grog.

The goliath was too busy thinking about rats coming through the gate from Greyskull. “Wuh--you mean me?” 

“Who else?” Gilmore asked, enjoying the way Grog’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of mauve when he blushed. “Now, where to next?”

“Uh...Pike said put you in her room for now, so…” 

“A room in the castle,” Gilmore said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lucky me.” Being carried up several flights of stairs by Grog, who was better suited to carrying battering rams than injured humanoids, was not a pleasant business. But Gilmore hid his pain with aplomb; Grog was doing his best, after all. When they finally arrived at Pike’s bedroom, Gilmore thanked Grog and collapsed back into the bed for a time. His head had begun to spin on the way up, and he needed to lie still in order to recover.


	3. Check, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crack mystery-solving team of Gilmore and Sherri do some investigating into Westruun's current status. Hearing that Vax is avoiding Pike's room like the plague, Vex'ahlia lets him have it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please indulge this brief POV deviation to include Pike's and the twins' POV.  
> This chapter is rated M.

Gilmore had hardly closed his eyes when Sherri came in, muttering. “...tell  _ me _ to go down to the village so I can be assigned lodging.” Gilmore briefly considered pretending to be asleep, but he wasn’t certain it would have made a difference. “Master, what of Westruun?”

Gilmore opened his eyes and sighed. This was his fault. He should have guessed Westruun would be on the Conclave’s radar. “Try scrying,” he said, unwilling to risk using his magic again quite yet. Sherri gestured to show her hands were empty. Nearly everything they had was gone, a devastating thing to have to recall. “Use my spare focus. It’s in my robe.” He motioned to the burned and bloody garment hanging over a nearby chair. 

Sherri reached into his right sleeve and withdrew a smooth, oblong crystal. She sat down on the floor and began to concentrate. After less than a minute, she said, “It’s...empty, Sir. They’re gone.” 

Perhaps that was a good thing, Gilmore thought. “Can you see the bookbinder’s? Is he there?” 

Sherri focused for a few more moments, then gasped. “It’s...it’s on fire...the rest of the street, it’s...broken glass, and some of the buildings are...melted.”

Gilmore watched her closely. “Look carefully, Sherri. Are they truly burned, or disintegrated, as if acid had been poured on them?” 

Sherri’s brow furrowed as she concentrated. “Melted. It’s not burned.” 

“That will be the Black, then. You can stop now, my dear.” 

Sherri looked up at him. “What now, Sir?” 

“The Black will be the easiest to deal with,” Gilmore thought out loud. “Being the least powerful. It’s likely he’s made his lair some distance from the town…” Gilmore tried to think where the nearest swamp or caves were to Westruun. “I need a map.” If he was some distance away, it was possible they could evacuate the survivors without him even knowing. 

“What are you thinking, Sir?” Sherri asked, digging in his satchel for the maps she’d taken from the keep. 

“This may be something we can fix without much ado.” He smoothed out the map when Sherri rolled it out over the bedspread. No, there was nothing but fresh water for miles around Westruun. Then Gilmore saw it. “This one.” He pointed to Gatshadow. “He’ll have been drawn here.” A Black dragon would be unable to resist the cursed mountain.

“You know so much about dragons, Sir.” 

Gilmore was used to Sherri’s way of asking a question without asking it. “I’ve been around, in a manner of speaking. One learns a thing or two with enough time.” 

“It’s funny that our hosts haven’t asked for your help dealing with the dragons,” Sherri said. It was clear from her tone that she meant it was in no way funny, but rather showed Vox Machina’s trademark short-sightedness. 

“They know me as one thing,” Gilmore told her. “It’s the nature of mortals to quickly categorize others and move on.” 

“So it’s up to us, then?” Sherri clenched her fists, ready for the challenge. 

“This may be something we don’t have to trouble them with, yes,” he said. 

Sherri snorted, her low opinion of them evident. “Should I go now?” 

“Did it look safe for you to go alone?” 

She nodded. “There weren’t many people around, and I can handle a few looters.” With Sherri’s pent-up rage, Gilmore did not doubt that she could. 

“Very well. But just briefly, to get an idea of what we have to contend with. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way.” Sherri nodded, drawing her heirloom wand. “I’ll Teleport you there, so you can come back as soon as you need to.” 

She paused, looking at him with concern. “Is that a good idea, Master? Didn’t the healer say no more magic?” 

Gilmore offered a rakish smile. “It’s a simple Teleport spell. What could possibly go wrong?” 

They found out a few moments later, when he cast it and shouted in pain, a single, melodious cry that echoed down the hall. Sherri ran to the bed when Gilmore collapsed, taking one look at the bloodstain spreading over his borrowed pajamas. “Mistress Pike!” she shouted, running out of the room. “Pike, come quickly!” 

_ Waste of a good spell, _ Gilmore thought, unable to stop her before she was out of the room. 

*

“It sounds like Gilmore’s wounds will have to be re-dressed, can you help?” Pike turned to Vax, who was lounging in the wide stone windowframe, one leg dangling out the window as he looked down on the town. “You were such a big help yesterday.”

“What?” Vax nearly fell out the window. “Is he alright?” 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Pike said. “It sounds like he just overexerted himself.” 

“Oh. Well. That’s good,” Vax stammered noncommittally. 

Pike shook her head, walking toward the bedrooms. “I told him not to do any more magic.” Not seeing Vax behind her, she paused and looked back. “Are you coming?” 

He seemed to be thinking about it. “No...I have to...do something.” Casting a guilty look in Keyleth’s direction, Vax disappeared into thin air. 

“What just happened?” Pike asked Keyleth, who quickly turned away and busied herself poking at the fire in the hearth. Pike sighed. “Fine. Vex,” she called into her earring. “Can you meet me in my room? I might need help with Gilmore.” 

“Of course, darling,” Vex came back. “But are you sure my brother wouldn’t like to help instead?” 

“I guess not,” Pike said. She was definitely going to get to the bottom of this, whatever had just happened. But she had more important things to do right now. 

*

“Why are you being an arsehole?” Vex’ahlia asked Vax some time later, finding her brother hiding on the highest battlement in the castle, perched on the parapet.

“Am I?” he asked, hopping up and starting to walk away. Vex grabbed him by the cloak and pulled him back. 

“Pike says you’re avoiding Gilmore.” Vax pretended to look out towards the town, saying nothing. “Really? After he almost just died? I don’t understand you.” 

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. 

But Vex’ahlia was having none of that. She stuck her hands on her hips, cornering him so he couldn’t sneak away. “Well, how about you uncomplicate it for me, hm?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Vex’ahlia,” he said, scuffing his foot against the stone. 

She just stared at him, trying to glean his secrets through their twin mind powers. “Look, I know you told him you didn’t want to see him anymore. But the way you behaved yesterday at Gilmore’s...look me in the eye, brother, and tell me you don’t love him.” 

Vax very carefully did  **not** look her in the eye. “I never said that.” 

“But?” she prompted, gesturing with one arm before folding both across her chest. 

Vax shrugged. “It’s complicated.” 

“Whatever that means.” He glanced at her and quickly looked away. “Look, whatever’s going on, I don’t care,” Vex’ahlia said. “But I do know this: my brother is not an ungrateful arsehole. He fought a dragon for us, you know. So whatever complications you may be feeling, the least you can do is say thank you and help Pike bandage up his fucking claw wounds.” She threw something at him and walked away. 

*

At first, Vax thought it was just a towel, perhaps something from the kitchens. But when he caught it, he opened the bunched fabric to see it was stained with fresh blood. This was Gilmore’s? But Pike had said he was getting better... Vax sat down on the parapet, dangling his legs over the edge. He balled the fabric back up, and held it to his chest, thinking. 


	4. Whitestone and Chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking some time to think over Vex'ahlia's scolding, Vax figures he owes Gilmore a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated E.

Gilmore awoke to the pressure of another body on the mattress. “I can leave if you’d like to rest,” he said, assuming it was Pike. He had yet to see the gnome get any sleep herself, and she’d been working non-stop. Then it registered: the scent of enchanted leather and poisoned steel mixed with pine needles. 

“You’re the one who should be resting,” Vax said softly. 

“And yet, here you are,” Gilmore pointed out. “In my bed.” 

He watched Vax’ildan’s ears flush a dark crimson. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“I know.” Gilmore let him off the hook. “Far be it from me to think we might dally.” 

Vax huffed, flinging himself onto his back beside Gilmore. “I knew you would hold that against me.” 

“Vax’ildan. Darling.” Gilmore sighed. “You are the one who said you would no longer pursue me. At no point did I refuse you.” 

Vax sounded petulant. “I know.” 

“Nor would I,” Gilmore said, glancing over at the dark shape lying so close beside him, but not close enough to touch. Not with his present range of motion, at least. 

“I know,” Vax said, sounding just as gloomy. The impudent elf. 

“But I’ve done my best to respect your wishes,” Gilmore said, coolly. If Vax’ildan was so certain of his affections, then he needn’t be so declarative anymore. “Knowing my feelings were unwelcome…” Gilmore felt the sheets move, and then Vax was gone. That felt like a blow. _Really._ These games were not good for his ego. Gilmore turned his head against the pillow and shut his eyes. 

Then he felt movement beneath the blankets, followed by a warm tongue against his bare thigh. Gilmore’s heart began to hammer in his chest. It appeared he had not been abandoned after all. “Vax’ildan?” Gilmore could hardly believe it, but mortals were so unpredictable. Especially this one. Perhaps mercurial would have been a better description. 

Given his current pain levels, Gilmore took Vax’ildan’s efforts for the apology they were, intending to end things here. “Dearest, you don’t have to--” He gasped as Vax jerked his knees apart and dove in. Gilmore’s back arched against the pillows as Vax broke his own relationship parameters in spectacular fashion. The pain from Gilmore’s injuries paled beside Vax’ildan’s determination.

“What happened to being fair?” Gilmore asked afterward, breathing hard. 

“Vex’ahlia’s right,” Vax said, slithering back up to join Gilmore on the pillows. “I am an arsehole.” 

Gilmore grabbed him, then, injury be damned, and pulled Vax up to straddle him. “I’m not complaining,” he said, brushing Vax’ildan’s long hair back over his shoulders and just drinking in the sight of him. 

“This can’t be good for your injuries,” Vax pointed out, though he was smiling, breathless, as Gilmore’s bronze fingers traced greedy lines across his skin. 

“But it’s good for my heart,” Gilmore argued, wrapping fingers around him with one hand while the other traced the curve of Vax’ildan’s lips with his thumb. He bucked and shivered, helpless in Gilmore’s grasp. Vax reached completion quickly, proving it had been too long since they had been together. 

“Just lie here with me for a time,” Gilmore asked, easing Vax’ildan back into bed beside him. When he was sated, Vax was like a happy cat. Naked, he curled against Gilmore’s side and wrapped around him, beginning to doze. He reached up to stroke Vax’ildan’s hair, luxuriating in the feel of it between his fingers. It had been too long. Gilmore needed this. “Thank you,” he whispered. Ensuring the door was magically locked, he closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of Vax’ildan lying here next to him. 

*

Gilmore had not noticed that he’d fallen asleep. He awoke to familiar lips pressing against one of the fresh scars Thordak’s teeth had left behind on his neck, and a lithe body sliding very, very carefully on top of his own. “Have a good rest?” he asked Vax, blinking lazily up at the boy. Vax’ildan responded by kissing him on the lips, a probing endeavor which intensified with a slow burn. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Gilmore purred. But what was Vax doing? 

His eyes bored into Gilmore’s with an intensity that bordered on desperation. So many things lay there in Vax’ildan’s eyes, unsaid. The inability to give voice to them was causing him pain. But for Vax, Gilmore knew emotional expression was a tender subject. The look in his eyes now said he had something to prove. 

Clearly Vax wanted another go, and Gilmore would find a way to manage, but what else did that look mean? Perhaps now was not the right time to contemplate such things. Still, he reached up to cup Vax’ildan’s face. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“Yes I do,” Vax said, glaring in a way that was perhaps meant to be dominating. 

“No,” Gilmore told him. “You don’t.” He gently rolled the boy off of his hips, yelping with pain when he moved just a hair too far. 

Vax’ildan touched his shoulder, apologetic. “Because you’re hurt?” 

“No.” Gilmore took a moment to compose himself. There was nothing quite like a gut wound. “Because you have nothing to prove to me.” He reached to stroke Vax’ildan’s cheek. “If you have a point to get across, something you’d like to say to me, we can just talk.” 

Vax shrugged, reluctantly. “I’d rather fuck.” 

Gilmore whimpered. This timing was so unfair. “So would I, my love.” He pulled Vax’ildan’s hair a little before pushing himself onto his back and waiting for the pain to subside. “But perhaps we should talk first.” 

Vax surprised him by saying, “I missed you,” as he slid close, mindful of Gilmore’s injury. He reached out gentle fingers to tease Gilmore’s chest hair. 

“I’ve been here, dearest. You had only to come see me.” 

“I tried,” Vax said quietly. “Sherri sent me away.”

 _Ah, yes. That._ Gilmore reached out to smooth Vax’ildan’s hair.

“And before that, I called you. I thought...maybe you’d be able to hear me.” 

“I heard you,” Gilmore confessed. “But I was trying to honor your wishes.” 

Vax hid his face in the hollow of Gilmore’s shoulder. “You should know me well enough by now to know I make shitty decisions.” 

“That’s not quite how I would put it,” Gilmore said.

“No, you know I do.” Vax looked up at him. “Don’t listen to me. If I ever say things like that, just ignore it.” 

Gilmore chuckled, and then stopped, because pain. He touched Vax’ildan’s cheek. “Confusing advice. Perhaps there’s something you said that you’d like to unsay?” Gilmore dearly hoped there was. 

“Yes!” Vax said, growing emotional. “That’s what I’m saying. But also no.” He flopped down on the pillow, frustrated. 

“Did she ask you to tell me those things?” Gilmore asked, softly, having his own suspicions. 

Vax huffed. “No.” 

“Then I don’t see the problem.” 

“It’s a problem,” Vax told the pillow, darkly. 

“Alright,” Gilmore said. “I’ll respect your feelings.” 

“No!” Vax looked up at him in horror. “That’s what I just said! You can’t listen to me!” 

Gilmore smiled sadly. “You want me to be the one to blame, then? If you change your mind?” 

“No, that’s not fair either.” Vax rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “When I thought I was going to lose you--” he choked. Vax reached to thread his fingers through Gilmore’s. “I can’t lose you.” 

“I’m right here,” Gilmore reminded him. 

“Oh, don’t be so smug, you beautiful bastard.” 

“I take nothing for granted,” Gilmore told him, honestly. “You most of all.” 

Vax turned to look at him. “Did I hurt you?” 

Gilmore debated whether he was looking for the honest answer or the right one. “I told you I was disappointed…” 

Vax buried his face in the pillow. “But I love you and I don’t want to hurt you!” 

The words poured into Gilmore’s heart like a prayer. He could not hold back a smile. Gilmore closed his eyes, taking a moment to savor them. “It’s often those we love whom we hurt the most.” 

Vax squeezed his hand and buried his face in Gilmore’s chest. “I’m sorry. I know I hurt you.” And then, he continued unexpectedly, “Please, can we just fuck now?” 

“I’ll do my best,” Gilmore smiled, kissing him the way Vax liked to be kissed, hard, and dominating. 

Vax flung the blankets back, rock hard, determined to have his way with Gilmore any way he could. His enthusiasm was flattering, but Gilmore’s current range of motion was limiting, to say the least. He kissed Vax’ildan slowly, guiding him with a hand on the small of his back until Vax was snug between his thighs. “I know perhaps it’s not ideal…” Gilmore began, but Vax’ildan’s hips were already thrusting, chasing the friction he needed. Gilmore cupped the back of his neck and whispered filthy encouragements in one pointed ear until Vax collapsed, gasping on top of him. 

“It wasn’t my first choice,” Vax said, looking up at Gilmore, “but until your wounds heal…” He took Gilmore’s hand, nibbling his fingertips with an impish look. “I want to take extra special care.” 

“Please do,” Gilmore purred. 

“Believe me,” Vax said, playfully biting the heel of Gilmore’s palm. “Once you’re better, I’m going to blow your back out.”

Gilmore was elated. “Such threats! I’ll hold you to that.”

“I’d do it now,” Vax looked up with a feral glint in his eyes. “If I could.” 

“You know I have a hard time saying no to you.” Gilmore traced Vax’ildan’s cheekbone with his thumb.

Vax’s eyes softened, and he covered Gilmore’s hand with his own. “But you’re hurt. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” 

Gilmore could have told him Vax was destined to hurt him much more before their time together was done. But for now, he let the boy keep his good intentions. “You are too good to me.” 

“Don’t bet on it,” Vax grinned, slipping back down the mattress. 

“Darling boy, I think you overestimate my--!” That was not what he’d been expecting. It seemed Vax remembered what Gilmore had taught him. Perhaps too well, because he stopped just short of Gilmore reaching climax, and waited. Just when Gilmore thought he was safe, and they might go back to pillow talk, Vax’ildan began again. 

Where had this sadistic streak come from? Or, perhaps more accurately, could it not have shown itself sooner?

The pleasurable torture continued for so long, Gilmore lost track of time. He gave himself over to physical sensation, the frustrated longing for release, the intimate enjoyment of allowing Vax to manipulate him. Such sweet torment. 

Finally, as Gilmore hovered again, just at the edge, gasping, Vax’ildan looked up into his eyes, growling, “Say please.” 

Gilmore could have wept at how merciless Vax looked in that moment. “Please,” he begged, and Vax’ildan moved to finish what he’d begun what felt like hours ago, sensation crashing down on Gilmore like a tidal wave. 

“Next time it won’t be my fingers,” Vax whispered, crawling back up like a little panther to lie beside him, pleased. He pressed close, licking and biting Gilmore’s ear, catching one of Gilmore’s earrings between his teeth.

“Promises, promises,” Gilmore quipped, breathless and dizzy. 

Suddenly, Vax’ildan’s teeth were at Gilmore’s throat, sucking and biting until he’d left a dark bruise. Vax looked pleased as he leaned back to examine his handiwork. A bit juvenile, Gilmore thought, but also endearing. “Now we are both marked,” he said, encircling Vax’ildan’s left wrist with his fingers and tracing the elvish letters tattooed there with his thumb. Vax watched him, lips parted, his pupils dilating. “Tell me what you want,” Gilmore whispered, getting a vague idea, but needing to hear Vax’ildan speak it.

“I want you to be mine. I want to stay here with you. All day. To fuck you as many times as I want before we have to go away again.” 

“I believe I can accommodate that,” Gilmore said, sliding fingers through Vax’ildan’s long hair and pulling. Vax kissed him and Gilmore smiled against his lips, giddy. 

“What?” Vax asked, drawing back, afraid he was being laughed at. 

“Nothing.” But Gilmore couldn’t stop smiling. He kissed Vax’ildan’s temple, leaning down to whisper, “Don’t look now, dearheart, but I think you just threatened to hoard me.”

Vax rolled onto his back, considering. “Maybe that is the word.” He glanced at Gilmore from the corner of his eye. “I just.” Vax turned, taking Gilmore’s hands. “You’re something--someone precious to me, and I don’t want to share you...with anyone. I want all of you for myself.” Vax bit his lip, looking anxious. “But that’s not fair, is it?”

Seeing Vax about to begin his downward spiral of angst, Gilmore did his best to cut him off. “Why don’t we take things one step at a time, my love? Think in the short term, just to start? What do you want...right now?” Yes, Gilmore was squeezing one of Vax’ildan’s buttocks in the midst of a serious conversation. No, he was not sorry.

Vax hissed, sliding back on top of him. “ _You_.” Gilmore would have thought he’d taken a potion for the occasion, if he hadn’t known the half-elf was 27, and still so close to his sexual peak. Vax’ildan was supple and acrobatic and very difficult to refuse, injury or no injury. And Gilmore did not want to say no. He finally had his heart’s desire right where he wanted him. 

*

It was nearing the dinner hour when Vax fell, sweating, beside him on the mattress once more. Gilmore kissed his damp forehead, brushing back his tousled hair. “Someone’s going to come by talking of food soon.” Gilmore could already smell it downstairs. And he had definitely heard Vax’ildan’s stomach rumble just now. 

“Don’t make me go,” Vax whined, throwing his arms around Gilmore. 

“I would never.” Gilmore patted his behind, comforting. The urge to hoard him was growing by the moment. But it was more clear now than ever: the tighter Gilmore tried to hold Vax to him, the further away he would stray. Give up, and suddenly his darling boy was foregoing food to linger by his side. 

Gilmore double-checked the magelock on the bedroom door, and took a moment to Prestidigitate a sign into the outer wood itself: 

_Finally sleeping. Do not disturb. -G_

“So,” he turned his attention back to Vax’ildan. “What shall we do then, if you’re skipping dinner?” Gilmore asked, innocently.

“Well…” Vax pretended to think about it, and Gilmore chuckled. 

“How will I ever survive you?” There was a dual meaning to Gilmore’s question which hung uncomfortably between them. 

Vax gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll make sure you do.” He snuggled close, spooning against Gilmore. 

They spent the rest of the night together, and Gilmore could not have been more happy. Perhaps he should die more often. 


	5. Crabwalk of Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That trope where you hide so your friends don't know you've secretly been hooking up.

“Is Gilmore staying here in Whitestone?” Vex asked over breakfast the next morning. 

“Yes,” Scanlan answered without skipping a beat. 

“You already asked him?” she looked down the table at the gnome, who was sculpting breasts and nipples out of his porridge and berries. 

“No.” He looked up. “You really want him along?” 

Vex sighed, standing up. “I think after all he’s done for us, he should get a say.” He deserved some bloody consideration after the way her brother had ghosted him yesterday. 

Percy raised a finger to give his opinion, but Vex was already striding from the room, determined. And so, he followed. “Is that really what’s best?” he asked. “I mean, Gilmore was grievously injured...and I need him here. I’ve told Cassandra--” But Vex wasn’t listening. She took the stairs by twos and quickly outpaced him, walking to Pike’s bedroom door while Percy was still huffing and puffing his way up the stairs.

Vex read the mage writing on the door.  _ Poor thing.  _ Pike had said it was there when she came to bring Gilmore his dinner last night, so she’d let him sleep. But that was hours ago, and Vex felt badly leaving without at least saying goodbye to Gilmore this morning. Impatient, she rapped softly on the door. “Gilmore? I’m sorry to wake you, darling. I just wanted to speak with you very briefly before we were on our way.”

*

Gilmore’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Vex’ahlia’s voice, just in time to catch the fully-nude Vax crabwalk across the bed and disappear beneath. He waited for one pale arm to shoot out from under the bed and grab Vax’ildan’s discarded clothing and armor before he unlocked the door. “Come,” Gilmore called out. Vex’ahlia peered in with a smile as Percy ran up behind her, sweating a little. “Is everything alright, my dear?” Gilmore asked. 

“Gilmore.” Her brow furrowed with fond sympathy. “I should be the one asking you that.” 

“Thank you again for helping Pike dress my wounds yesterday,” he said. 

“It was literally the least I could do.” Vex walked over and took his hand, squeezing Gilmore’s fingers. “But seriously, how are you feeling?” 

“My heart is easier being here with all of you,” Gilmore said. “And my body will recover in time.” 

“Yes...about that...I mean, where do you want to stay, Gilmore? We’re leaving for Vasselheim today, you see, and. Well, would you like to come with us?”

Gilmore was surprised. Did she expect him to come adventuring with them now? Was that actually something he would want to do? Gilmore considered it for a moment. No, no. He was far too old for that lifestyle. Besides, adventuring was the thing Vax’ildan did with Keyleth. It was the bulk of their time together. Gilmore would not be welcome. But Vex’ahlia was such a dear for asking.

Instead, Gilmore explained that he was in no shape for travel, and that the religious-types in Vasselheim made him distinctly uncomfortable. From the way Percy nodded to himself, Gilmore guessed he had presumed it had to do with Gilmore’s sexual proclivities. Which, in fact, was not the case at all, but he was content to let Percy think it was. Whatever it took not to have to set foot in that wretched city ever again. 

Vex’ahlia was very understanding, likely having concluded the same as Percival, and reminded Gilmore that there was apparently a library devoted to him here. Percy took the opportunity to ask Gilmore to help restart Whitestone’s economy. Which might have been an odd request, except, as Gilmore had recently explained to Sherri, Percival had clearly identified Gilmore as one specific thing, and useful to him only in a specific way. After all his years in Tal’Dorei, Gilmore was used to it, and was past being offended by such assumptions. 

“Well, I guess it’s not too late to open a new branch of Gilmore’s Glorious Goods, since my other--possibly two--no longer exist.” He groaned at the thought. “I was so close to opening…” Gilmore allowed himself a moment of grief for all the hard work that had been for naught. “Well, I started from nothing; I can do it again.” Too much talk, and his abdomen was already protesting everything Gilmore and Vax had put it through last night. He coughed, and offered a parting smile to Vex and Percy. “Good luck, you all.” 

“You as well,” Percy nodded politely. 

Vex looked disappointed Gilmore would not be coming with them, which was precious. She gave him an awkward but gentle half-crouching hug before they left. “Take care, darling.” 

“Just come back to me intact,” Gilmore said. “All of you.” 

“We will,” Vex’ahlia promised, and the two of them took their leave. 

As soon as the door latched behind them, there was a groan from under the bed. “Gods, I thought they’d never leave!” Gilmore glanced down to watch Vax spider out from under the bed. “Stone floor’s fucking cold! And I don’t think Pike’s cleaned under there for months!” 

Gilmore chuckled softly at his petulance. “You should hurry so that you can get breakfast before you all leave.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Vax said, hurriedly pulling on his clothes. Gilmore used a small Prestidigitation to clean him up a bit; Vax had not been lying about the dust under Pike’s bed. The casting did not hurt this morning. Sex had a way of recharging Gilmore’s batteries that way, and Vax’ildan had made certain he was more than fully charged. 

“You may as well tell me not to breathe, my love,” Gilmore said as Vax sat down on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on. 

“I’m more worried about you,” Vax said, looking at Gilmore mock-sternly. “You’re the one who dueled Thordak. We’re just going to Vasselheim to enlist some allies. Easy-peasy.” 

Gilmore smoothed back Vax’ildan’s hair, combing through it with his fingers. “Still, I suspect with your singular ability to find danger, you could encounter an elder god in a nursery. Come back to me whole, please.” 

Finished, Vax rose, turned, and kissed Gilmore goodbye. “I promise.” Gilmore kissed the palm of his hand before letting him go. 

“You, get better,” Vax'ildan said, walking out the door. “I have a more serious promise to keep when you do.” He turned back with a meaning look. 

“Yes you do,” Gilmore replied with a sultry smile. Vax did his best imitation of his sister’s wink, and was gone. 


End file.
